Griff observed the meeting with a blad expression. Outwardly, he was uninteresting. His server uniform was tailored exactly to him, and was adorned with several gold embelms and other decorations. In his hand he held a silver platter with several different choices of food and drink. He slowly made his way around the party area, on his prearranged patrol route.

Dozens of other highly trained Black Hand agents did the same. These were no Hapans, but Griff's personal special forces unit. Most of them had served in the various Sovereignty wars, and most of them with elite units.

They were well suited to this type of mission. They had been doing it for years.

At the slightest hint of trouble, they would drop their cover, and enter into instant action. All of them were on the highest of alerts.

A slight tingling sensation awoke Griff's concentration. A miniscule communications tranceiver was alerting him.

"What is it?" He asked in a low voice.

"This is Amos. Patrol Three has not reported in on time."

Amos was a veteran of the Battle of Bespin, when the Sovereignty attacked Cloud City, which was then under Imperial control. He was one of Griff's best agents.

"Is that normal?" Griff knew such a question was stupid. He had had soldiers imprisoned for not following orders to the letter, and the Regency forces on Dreena were the cream of the crop. They would never be late.

Unless something had happened...

"Check it out. Go to full alert, have the Steel Resolve scan with infared. Order Observer Squadron to Three's last known location. Be ready with a full assault team. Find them, Amos."

"On the way."

Amos clicked off, and Griff touched his jacket, where a highly advanced holdout blaster rested safely.

He had a bad feeling...


***


"Dreena Four-Two-Seven this is Observer Leader, we have arrived at Three's last known point."

The heavily modified Lambada-class shuttle, followed by a squadron of escort fighters slowed to a halt, and hovered over the small section of hillside that Patrol 3 had reported from last. The shuttle formerly had been assigned as a transport craft, shuttling high-ranking passengers to and from ships. However, it now looked nothing like it's former self.

The inside had been completely ripped up and redesigned, and had been retrofitted with every type of sensor and communication's equipment known to the galaxy. The Crown Prince had spent a fortune turning the ship into a mobile sensor and observation platform, and now it turned those formidable assets onto the small hillside...

"Scanning..." The command officer said, mostly to himself. It was his job to monitor the readouts, and scan the tergeted area.

"Dreena Four-Two-Seven this is Observer Leader... we have an object on our boards, but I'm not sure what it is. It could be lifesigns, but it is almost too big."

"Continue your search." Amos, operating under the handle Dreena 427, said.

"I may have something, here sir. As I said, it's too big to be a lifesign... or at least one lifesign. It may be several. Suggest that a ground force converge on this location, we may have visitors..."

"Acknowledged."


***

"Dreena Four-two-nine, the nerf is out of the corral."

Griff instantly set his platter down and drew his blaster pistol. Everywhere, waiters and servers were doing the same. Their previous fake smiles erased as they degenerated into their Black Hand personas.

Chatter among the delegates began to arise as Griff and his forces moved out and toward the hillside. They made a quick stop at their shuttle and placed their helmets on their heads. They were equipped with infared and other sensors, and also sported a full-face shield. They were now unrecognizable as they moved toward the hill where Observer Sqaudron could be seen patrolling.

"Kill anything that is not ours." Griff spoke.

The rocket propelled grenade exploded against the side of the shuttle craft brilliantly, knocking the crown prince to the ground. The serene clearing had dissolved into chaos, fire and death. Oxenstierna had left a detachment of his unit on the top of the hill. A heavy weapons team rained red death upon the enemy soldiers while a sniper picked off Hapans getting too close to the Special Forces main assault.

The sergeant ordered the weapons team to lay down cover fire for him as he made a mad dash for the prince’s unconscious form. The snitch had gotten it all wrong. The Special Forces team had been told to expect a platoon at best along with a few token frigates in orbit, not entire fleets.

Oxenstierna need leverage now or at least until reinforcements arrived. The Crown Prince would do nicely. The sergeant approached carefully and quickly. The grenade had hit the shuttle perfectly, and it burned hot. The dirty and disheveled prince was beginning to stir.

“Go back to sleep asshole,” yelled Oxenstierna, hitting the Hapan across the face with the butt of his rifle.

He pulled a gas mask over his face while popping a smoke grenade. Concealment was a great weapon. Though the measure was two fold, there were cameras everywhere. The gesture brought him back two years before to the Search and Seizure Riots on Meridian. Coalition sympathizers, aliens mostly, had tried to rush a government import firm after Coalition transports had been turned away to maintain neutrality.

The words of his commanding officer at the time echoed in his head, “remember to don a mask before you go busting heads, boys. That’ll protect you from the legal system. Now let’s go put some god damn liberals in fucking hospital!” Armed with clubs, Oxenstierna’s company dispersed the crowd.

The last thing the Commonwealth Army wanted was a picture of an identifiable soldier kidnapping a galactic leader on the front page of the Weekly Galactic News; thus, the mask was warranted.

Now Oxenstierna had a choice to make. If the Special Forces team stayed around here, they would be shot to pieces very quickly. There only feasible option was to fade away back into the woods, and play shadow games with the remaining Hapan soldiers until reinforcements arrive and hope the Hapans cared enough about their leader not raze the forest from orbit.

So, Oxenstierna began to drag the prince through the mud, ash, and blood. It was quite a reversal of fortunes. The Relephon troops were picking up the intensity now, forcing the sergeant to take cover behind the burned out strongpoint.

“All teams make for the woods. Give me cover as I extract the package.” Oxenstierna ripped off his mask due to its vision obscuring properties and fire randomly in the direction of Hapan Regency troops dragging Lucian as he went.

Southern Continent, Dreena

So the war begins...

The battle had erupted into a full-scale conflict as Atlas-class shuttles rained down from the fleets above to the planets surface, carrying with them a vast array of repulsor tanks, troop transports, and heavy artillery. They landed quickly with surgical precision quickly dropping there cargos and returning back to the safety of the skies. As the smoke cleared, it had become evident that Lucian's body had disappeared leaving behind a trail of disrupted mud and terrain leading toward the thick, yet tiny forest nestled against a small foothill on the tiny island. Cover fire from the hills had rained down on the open clearing as the smoldering shuttle continued to burn, and then explode as troops dove for cover.

The Crown Prince had made the fatal error of assuming that Dreena was a safe planet, being unoccupied and having only tiny pockets of land resting against the vast oceans that dominated it's surface. Fortunately, he was a man of wealth and power, and loved to flaunt it. Thousands of honor guards had accompanied him to the planet, and hundreds of warships loomed in the skies above, some under his personal control and others the remnants of fleets left to the nobles who now lay dead in the metallic pre-fabricated structure in the distance.

As the cover fire continued, Miy'Til fighters began to sweep the area, launching precision strikes into the heart of the forest and hills at the areas unoccupied by Relephon forces. As thick grey smoke plumed in the distance, Relephon forces quickly zoned in on the Crown Prince, cutting the agent off from his escape into the woods.

They had him surrounded.

Snipers picked off Relephon troops one by one as they entered the forest, only to give away there positions with each shot fired. As a second wave of Miy'Til fighters screamed past in the skies above, providing cover fire for the troops entering the forests, Snipers found themselves having to expose there positions, or be killed by the massive influx of troops.

"Colonel," a younger Relephon soldier yelled. "Take two teams and secure those two positions in the hills. We've got this mother fucker pinned down! He's not going anywhere."

The Colonel raised his hands as two large groups of men followed him into the heat of the battle, charging the hills where the enemy fire had so obviously been coming from. Behind him in the distance, the snap-crack of tree bark brought with them a loud crash-thud as heavy artiller and repulsor tanks moved into position to bombard the hillsidesm clearing a path for the men to take the hills. Miy'Til fighters provided all the cover fire they needed.

"Somebody get the goddamn Director out here!"

"Grenade! Get down!"

Two soldiers tackled the Colonel to the ground as the grenade erupted into a ball of fire and smoke beside them.

"Get the fuck off of me goddamn it! What's our status?"

"We've taken heavy casualties, but now that we know what we're dealing with, we believe they're taking casualties as well. Captain Thalis in orbit assures us that no one is getting in, and no one is getting out. Operation Black Widow took place about twenty minutes ago. Our main concern is that he has the Crown Prince," the young officer pointed as his words grew progressively louder to counter the growing noise of blaster fire and heavy artillery in the distance "somewhere near that burned out region. We've got the entire area surrounded. Occasionally the agent holding him fires off a few rounds, so we know he's out there somewhere. Our teams have uncovered several coffin-like meteor shaped capsules that we believe these teams landed on the planet with. Intel reports that they're simular to those rumored to be used by Commonwealth SpecOps. Sir," the officer grimaced "We're going to have to assume that the Crown Prince is dead until we confirm otherwise....."

"Mother Fucker..."

Imperial-class Star Destroyer Noir Soleil, Lorell Space

"I think he's kind of cute," Alia said with a slight giggle. She twisted Akasha's hair and neatly pulled it back. Taking a small brown pin out of her mouth, she carefully pushed it into position in the neatly folded hair and continued the process. "I'm tired of all these pretty-boy aristocrats that spend there time jousting and drinking wine. I want a real man. One that commands respect."

Akasha half-smiled. Her hand maiden Alia had been the perfect confidant to her since they were children in there aunt's Royal House AlGray. "It's funny, isn't it? All of these men fighting there wars. You know Alia, Queen Mother Vessana Dionysus would be rolling over in her grave if she knew that men were gaining so much power in the Cluster."

"Your brother included," Alia spat venomously. Her distaste for him had never been a secret among the women of Akasha's Royal Entourage. "He's been galavanting across the cluster sturing up all kinds of trouble from what I hear." Akasha nodded her head.

"Ooh! Keep your head still! Now I have to start all over!"

"Sorry."

"Don't apologize, just sit still!"

"Okay..."

"Sit. Still!"

"Okay!"

"Akasha!"

"I can't! I've been sitting here for half an hour waiting for you to finish my hair, Alia!"

Alia carefully retracted the brown pin she had so-carefully placed moments earlier and returned it to the shelter of her soft lips. Flicking her own golden-blonde hair back, Alia grasped Akasha's hair and carefully began twisting it into position once again.

"Now, Don't. Move."

Akasha looked down and gently stroked her abdomin with her thumb. Her growing stomach was becoming increasingly harder to hide from her own eyes, yet she wondered how no one else had noticed. The smooth silk cloth of her nightgown tickled the skin of her stomach as she looked back up into the mirror and pursed her lips.

She was pregnant.

A soft chime at the airlocked doors interrupted the two Hapan women. Alia jumped, and the perfectly manipulated twist of hair she had so carefully shaped fell into a long flowing lock of brown once again. "Damn it! I'm never going to get this done!" Tossing aside the hairbrush, she walked to the airlocked door and pushed a small grey button. With a snap-hiss, the double doors opened to reveal the Captain of Akasha's personal honor guard.

"Forgive the intrusion your majesty, but I have urgent news."

"Can't it wait?" Akasha wined as she stood and picked up a hair brush. "I'm in the middle of something, Captain." She started to carefully comb her hair into an acceptable position as Alia plopped down on a small lounge chair. Looking up from her nails, she sneered at Akasha and started to file them as she crossed her legs.

"No your highness. It can't. There has been an attack on the summit at Dreena. The Crown Prince is assumed dead."

Akasha pulled the comb from her hair and clenched it tightly as she slumped down into her chair, looking at him through the mirror. She stared in disbelief for a moment, her mouth hanging wide open. Alia's eyed grew large with anticipation as she leaned forward.

"What of the other Nobles?"

"Dead. All of them."

Akasha's lips shuttered as the Captain's cold words set in. Her body tingled with an emotion she had never felt before and a single tear flowed down her cheek. As the Captain took his hat off and folded his arms infront of him, the viewing port of her window was interrupted by a stream of starfighters moving into position.

So the war has begun....

Her thoughts raced as she stared blankly at the mirror infront of her. The room fell silent for several moments before Akasha spoke.

"Thank you Captain. Leave us."

The Captain bowed his head and strode briskly from her chambers. Alia stood and walked to her side, placing her hand reassuringly on her sholder. "From a woman to a Queen in a matter of seconds...."

Akasha shook her head and wiped a single tear from her cheek.

"I am not a Queen, Alia" she said softly. "Vessana Dionysus was a Queen. I am nothing, and I want nothing to do with this little war between the males. I just want it all to end."

Alia nodded her head.

"You're the boss now. Make it end..."

Alia leaned in and whispered "End it."

“It is for that reason that I, Crown Prince Lucian D'alaetos, have dispatched a series of political envoys throughout the cluster as well as to the Commonwealth. Each of the 63 worlds of the Hapes Cluster, as well as a diplomat from the Commonwealth has been invited to the Capital of the Relephon Moons, Celestia, for a regional summit to discuss the issues that have arisen of recent. As worlds throughout the cluster continue to separate from the Monarchy, conflict and clusterial destabilization is imminent. As peaceful leaders, each planet is invited to send a diplomat to discuss a rational and responsible unification of the Hapes Cluster, on one form or another.”



One Day Previous


“You’re not actually thinking of sending an envoy, are you?” Cygnus asked, raising his eyebrow good humouredly.

“I wasn’t,” Dakkon admitted, “And from what we’ve discovered...Representative D’alaetos wasn’t planning on making it easy for me if I had been. The meeting is on Dreena, not Celestia, a fact that Lucian went to great lengths to keep me from discovering.”

“Which you discovered anyway,” Cygnus noted.

“Hapans are loyal to the Crown,” Dakkon smiled, looking up from the datapads he had been pouring over to look at the Watcher before him, “And no matter how silver-forked Representative D’alaetos’s tongue is, there are always loyalists.”

“And loyalists make for good informants.”

“Exactly. For example, a…” Dakkon paused to glance back down at the datapad, “Former Captain Jonathon Wells of the Relephon Fleet. He’s been feeding us steady information about the increasingly radical changes in power in the Relephon leadership from Celestia until all sources from the Relephon system stopped transmitting. In his last transmission, the one that got cut off, he mentioned something about a Director…a Director X. The rest of the name was cut off.

It’s our guess that the Relephons blocked off the entire system, and from your report it looks like they have enough manpower to pull it off. You got out just in time.”

“Thank the Crown for small blessings,” Cygnus muttered.

“I’m flattered,” Dakkon smiled coyly, “Now, where were we? Ah yes, Dreena.”

“Location of the summit hosted by Lucian D’alaetos,” Cygnus processed the information out loud, as if testing the sound.

“Ah, but I’m afraid it’s so much more than that,” the Crown Prince slowly rose from his chair. The true throne of Hapes, Cygnus mused, “If Relephon’s denouncement of the Commonwealth was the calm before the storm, Dreena is the first crescendo of lightning.”

Dakkon turned away from his guest to look out upon the Fountain Palace, and the gardens far below. He held a drink lightly in his hand, half gone.

“The Relephon Fleet has made its presence strong over Dreena,” Dakkon said at length, sighing, “From the information we’re gathering, it seems as if Relephon plans to annex it.”

“There is not much there of value,” Cygnus mused, “It is uninhabited, and not exactly key to the Cluster.”

“True,” Dakkon admitted, half turning to cast a glance back at the man partially shrouded by the shadow of the room, “But what it represents is of value. I don’t care what Representative D’alaetos says, Relephon is not content to a peacefully independent civilization. Lucian wants the Cluster. Or at least enough of it…too much of it. And if what you believe-”

“Suspect,” Cygnus cut in, and then, “Beg pardon, my liege.”

Dakkon nodded.

“If what you suspect,” he continued, “is true, if they are aided by an outside entity, then that means a foreign power is making a bid for the Cluster. And that…I will not have. I will not allow that, under any circumstances.”

“Relephon would argue you already have,” Cygnus countered, silently preparing himself for the backlash.

“Mind your place!” Dakkon growled, “The Commonwealth is in the best interest of the Consortium! And if they truly believe otherwise, these Relephon are twice as hypocritical and ignorant for trading one foreign power for another!”

“I am a Watcher, your highness,” Cygnus said without a hint of emotion in his voice, “My duty, first and foremost, is to watch and comment. I do not infer; I do not show bias; I do not deceive those I work for. Countless decisions vital to the evolution of the Consortium have been made based the Watchers’ non-partisan counsel.”

“And do not lecture me on Hapan history!” Dakkon retorted, tightening his grip around the drink he held, “I am well aware of all of this, Thirty Four. And I…understand your intentions. Forgive me, rebuilding a government in place for generations from the ground up can take a lot out of a man.”

“Understood, my liege,” Cygnus cocked his head to the side, “And this isn’t all.”

“No…no it isn’t. You are perceptive to the last,” Dakkon shook his head, “No, there is something else. Something that…complicates things.”

“There always is.”

“In their infinite wisdom, the BIA recommended to the Commonwealth Navy that special forces be dispatched to Dreena prior to the summit in order to monitor the event and…if necessary…pacify the Representative.”

Cygnus grunted.

“That isn’t all,” Dakkon continued, “Lucian moved the date up a day, probably to throw me off one last time. The special forces will be arriving during the summit. It’s too late to recall them, and their standing orders in this contingency is to proceed with the mission as best as possible.”

“So where does that leave us?” Cygnus asked bluntly.

“Still crashing the party, of course,” Dakkon grinned, “We will be sending an envoy to Dreena, with a heavy military escort, to ‘show Consortium superiority’. The diplomatic team will be headed by Ambassador Jonas C’aelis.”

“You will not be attending personally?” Cygnus asked.

“My attention is required elsewhere, unfortunately,” Dakkon smiled, “Do not fear. They will be in good hands. I believe Ambassador C’aelis’s assistant Mister Derrik Sorn will be present.”

Dakkon winked, and Cygnus smiled grimly. They discussed much more than evening, and Cygnus left the Crown Prince’s office at last, returning to his temporary quarters to pack what little belongings he had.

Yes, the “diplomacy” would be in good hands.

After all, he was Derrik Sorn. At least, tomorrow he was.


Present Day


“Premature hyperspace reversion!” the call pierced the precise silence of the Sword of Hapes Battleship the Gladiator. They had been pulled out by the Relephon interdictors.

The Gladiator was not exactly well suited as a diplomatic vessel. It was a ship of war, armed to the teeth. And the majority of the escort fleet was exactly the same. From Darkstars to Nova Cruisers to Battle Dragons to Lorell Gunships, every available off duty Hapan vessel of war had been rounded up to form an impressive armada of obvious intent.

Captain Artemis Ashanti was the commanding officer of the Gladiator, and as such in direct command of the “escort fleet”. The diplomatic envoy was on board a small frigate within the heart of the fleet, and well protected. The fleet automatically and quickly formed into a standard formation, making no hostile moves but with obvious display of strength.

They were late. It had been the Crown Prince’s wishes that they make a late arrival, in order to lull the attendees into a false sense of security. Little did Dakkon know that on the planet the only remaining attendees were Lucian D’alaetos, who was unconscious and in the hands of Commonwealth special forces.

“Send the transmission,” Ashanti ordered.

“Aye, sir!” came the response.

The voice of Ambassador Jonas C’aelis was sent on all open channels.

“Attention fellow Hapans. I am Ambassador Jonas C’aelis, representative of the formal Hapan Consortium. I come to you not only as a representative of the Consortium, but of the Commonwealth as well. We are responding to Representative Lucian D’alaetos’s request for a diplomatic summit. We apologize for our late arrival, we had been informed the summit was to take place on Celestia. I assure you our attentions here are benign, and I hope you will allow us audience. Please respond.”

The message was sent, the pieces had been moved.

The first crescendo of lightning had sounded on the planet below.

“Let’s just fucking shoot him,” proposed Corporal Cyto rather rashly, raising his carbine to the Prince’s head.

“Cache the Death Watch bull shit--,” managed Oxenstierna as he dropped into a prone position as a flight of Miy'Til fighters burned across the horizon of the burning forest, strafing the team’s position.

“Where are Ruiz and Cuil?” asked Oxenstierna of the whereabouts of the team’s sniper section, as he pulled the bacta patch tight around his arm.

Cyto looked up from the foxhole that he was digging. “They’re dead, sergeant. That first flight of fighters got ‘em.” Cyto moved on to assembling the team’s stripped down E-Web. He was quite proficient with the weapon having it prepared in a matter of seconds. Pulling the gun’s bolt into place he said, nonchalantly, they way only a former member of the Death Watch Regiment could manage, “I’m still here though. I’ve got some killing too,” he added.

“Your enthusiasm has been noted, Corporal. Just make sure you have a clear field of fire for that thing,” ordered Oxenstierna.

Something vibrated in the team leader’s pocket. It was the Watcher signal. Fortunes could change in nanoseconds on the battlefield. Less than a second ago the team had been digging graves instead of foxholes. Now they actually had half of a chance. The rest surviving members of the Special Team was beginning to arrive at the rally point.

Dreena was covered by water. 0.00001 percent of it was land, meaning the team had no where to run. The Relephon soldiers knew exactly where they were, so the team dug. They dug the holes that they would probably die in unless Hapan fleet could punch a hole through the Prince’s new fleet’s iron grip on the planet, but they still dug. Months fighting the Domain’s hordes had taught the Commonwealth warriors that you stop pulling the trigger when the other side did, not a second earlier.

The team could hold out for a few days Oxenstierna estimated. Unless the Relephon soldiers wanted to kill the Commonwealth team so badly that they would kill the Prince too.




Oxenstierna wanted back in the infantry.



It was less…



Fluid.



Fire consumed the air.

Dreena System

Chaos.

The word itself could barely describe the mess that had broken out on the surface, and in orbit. As news of the assassination of several prominent Cluster nobles reached there fleets, a sence of fear and panic ensued for what seemed like a lifetime. But the rumors of the assassinations had been strategicly planted throughout the enemy fleets by Relephon operatives. It was the rumors of the Crown Prince D'alaetos' own death that troubled Captain Ulrich, of the Interdictor-class Battlecruiser Corvinus.

He observed the communications amongst the vast collection of fleets in the system with concern. Many of the fleet commanders had already restored order to there fleets, and were dedicating starfighter support on the ground to take out the enemy positions. However, there was one thing that the Relephon military had not counted on, and that was the fact that Lucian D'alaetos had been captured, and potentially killed by what had been confirmed (via dead and captured snipers on the surface) to be a Commonwealth special operations force.

"Captain Ulrich, Captain Thalis has informed us that all of the Noble fleets have agreed to fight under Relephon command hence forth. We all await your orders sir."

Ulrich nodded his head, but deep down pondered if they had done the right thing. The Heritage Fleet, as it had been known throughout history, was now under the sole command of Prince Lucian D'alaetos, who at this point could potentially be dead. If he was, Captain Ulrich pondered, what would happen? Insurrection amongst the fleets? Mutiny? Would the impending Civil War in the cluster end, or be made worse?

"Captain, incoming warships at bearing seven mark seven four. Hapan ships. Our gravity wells have pulled them out of hyperspace. We're picking up a transmission from the lead ship."

Dakkon. Captain Ulrich's thoughts preceeded his own action. He turned in his command chair and listened intently to the transmission. As he did, the small out-system fleet had begun to move into position to securely close the system off to the intrusion.

“Attention fellow Hapans. I am Ambassador Jonas C’aelis, representative of the formal Hapan Consortium. I come to you not only as a representative of the Consortium, but of the Commonwealth as well. We are responding to Representative Lucian D’alaetos’s request for a diplomatic summit. We apologize for our late arrival, we had been informed the summit was to take place on Celestia. I assure you our attentions here are benign, and I hope you will allow us audience. Please respond.”

The Captain looked at the communications officer and nodded his head. His voice was calm and collected, but certainly held no enthusiam in it.

"Ambassador C'aelis, welcome to the Dreena System. Unfortunately the system us currently under martial lock-down. It seems your luck has paid off. A small band of Commonwealth Special Forces has assassinated the members of the Summit, including we believe, the Crown Prince D'alaetos." The Captain paused for a moment, noting that the Ambassador had proclaimed himself a representative of the Consortium, and the Commonwealth. Flicking his wrist, the first officer nodded his head and ordered several squadrons of Miy'Til fighters to form a defensive position amongst the small fleet, one of four positioned in the out-system.

"As you claim to be a representative of the Commonwealth, perhaps you could explain this little incident not only to myself, but to the galactic community? Our forces on the ground have confirmed with one hundred percent positivity that the forces on the surface are of the Commonwealth."

Griff stopped for a short moment and observed his enemy, who was lying face up, and barely alive. .

"Commonwealth." He muttered, nothing but a knife edge in his voice.

Concealed in his full-face helmet, Griff was unrecognizable from the other Relephon forces. He held his blaster rifle tightly, and squeezed the stock so hard his hand hurt.

Anger seethed throughout his body as Relephon soldiers hauled the dying man away, stunning him so he couldn't attempt suicide.

"What is the status of the assault?" Griff asked into his comlink built into the helmet.

Amos's voice cut in, and Griff could tell by how strained his voice was that he was engaged in the heaviest of the fighting, "We have repelled their initial attack, but they still have the rich boy."

"How long until you elminate them?"

"Several minutes. They are putting up a huge fight, it will not be easy. I have already lost twenty men, and more every minute."

Griff gritted his teeth, "Reinforcements are on the way. I am sending in Alsaka."

"Affirm."



***


Near the small area where the Commonwealth soldiers were making their last stand, there was a large eagle-like bird of prey. It stood on a tall tree not far from the entrenched troops.

It was a very special bird.

Because it really wasn't a bird at all.

The Shi'ido named Alsaka stared down at the limp form of the Crown Prince from his perch at the top of the tree. The entrenched enemies were perhaps twelve meters away, and were fighting the approaching Relephon and Black Hand forces with a ferocity unseen in many years.

But none of that mattered to the Shi'ido. He had been present at major battles of the Sovereignty, and had seen more death and "last stands" than he cared to remember.

Now he only had one special mission, only one. He had executed it many times, and this was no different.

He waited for the signal.


***


"Sir, the enemy is surrounded." Amos said.

Griff observed the entrenched enemies through his macrobinoculars, "I want three squadrons of Miy'til fighters ready to go. They are obviously waiting for evac, let us ensure that they don't get it. Miy'tils are ordered to destroy any shuttle or rescue craft, no matter what it's origin. That goes for anything with Relephon markings."

"Understood."

Delete. Wrong name.

Battlefield of Dreena

The large figure of the bird-of-prey blinked his immense eyes and readjusted his sharp unnatural talons as he sat on the branch overlooking the battlefield. The Shi'ido Alsaka had waited patiently, observing every move of the battlefield and carefully watching every movement around the Prince's body.

He was alive.

Awaiting the right moment for what seemed to be an eternity, the Shi'ido shifted his ominous gaze to the skies as a flight of Miy'Til fighters swooped down lik ea flock of birds from the heavens. The Signal. Returning his monsterous gaze back to the Crown Prince, Alsaka carefully shifted his weight and unfolded his wings. Retracting his talons, he took flight through the thick black smoke of the battlefield in perfect unison with the incoming squadrons of Miy'Til fighters.

As Alsaka swooped in, his large talons carefully but quickly picked up the Crown Prince's limp body as if it were a small mouse in the talons of a graceful Golden Eagle. With two fast beats of his wings, Alsaka took flight just as the Miy'Til fighters swooped in and dropped there payload where he had been only moments before.

And then, there was silence...